Not Now Mikey
by notawordsmith
Summary: "Not now Mikey."  Mike's heard this phrase a zillion times, but will this be the last time he ever hears those words from Donatello? MPOV. 6th CHAPTER UP AND RUNNING.  Did Donny make out alive?
1. Not now Mikey

**A/N: This story was bugging me all night and I just couldn't start the day without putting some pen to paper. Don wanted the story told, and Mike decided to tell it. **

**I on the other hand had a million things to do today, and asked if I coud write it all tonight.**

**No dice. So here's what I've got on hand, I thought I'd nail this part to paper so it would stop rattling inside my head.**

**Hope you enjoy.**

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**Not now Mikey**

BLAM!

I stopped a giggle before it got too loud, ramming the little remote control between the seat cushions where nobody would find it. This has GOT to be the best prank ever! I thought as I heard the last of the explosion die away. Finding that intact airbag at the dump and installing it into Don's lab chair was a pure stroke of genius. He'd sit, I'd blam ... profit!

I was mentally running though the checklist of punishments I'd have to do when I heard the slow steps of Don entering the room. I covered my mouth so he wouldn't see my grin and leaned over the back of the couch for a look.

I was expecting the whole "MICHAELANGELO! Get your butt in here NOW! This is NOT cool dude, NOT funny." speil, with him running out of his lab in a black cloud of thunder, but it never happened, so I turned. I did not expect to see what I did.

He was grasping his right hand with his left so tightly I thought it was going to pop off. His eyes were fixed on a single bright speck of blood that glistened from a fingertip, and walked up to me like he was a bride doing her wedding march act.

Don as a bride. Now THAT's funny. Maybe the bride of Frankenstein 'cause he's in his lab so much. I wonder if he'd keep an Igor as a pet? Now that would be cool.

"Mikey." Don's voice was ice cold and fear gripped my heart. No yelling. No lectures. No punishment. That one single word dropped into my gullet like a heavy iron ball.

"Yeah bro?" I heard myself say, glancing around the lair and hoping against hope someone would come to my rescue. Leo, Raph and Splinter were out for the day, some blah, blah, blah about exercises. They thought it'd be ok to leave me with Don here in the lab 'cause we'd be safe.

I surpressed another giggle. Oh how wrong they were.

"Mikey, remember all those times when we've told you not now, 'cause whatever you'd do would get us killed?" He was still talking slow and measured. He was looking at me kinda funny too, like he was trying to work out if I was up to the task. What task I didn't know, and I sure as shell wasn't going to volunteer.

"Yeah?" I said again slowly, waiting for the lecture or rant or something to start. Pranks usually don't go this way and I was getting kinda worried.

It was Donny's eyes that did it to me. He looked real disappointed in me. Not like usual, when he would just sigh and rub his eyebrows and ask for whatever thing I broke so he could fix it. This was more of a holy-shell-you've-sooooo-messed-up-and-you-can't-fix-it kinda disappointment. I dunno what he was on about. It was just a prank. Sure I could fix it. I'd do the prank; he'd get mad, I'd say I'm sorry, he'd fix it, I'd get punished, bam! Fixed.

But he just sighed again and turned away and said in that terrifying low quiet voice.

"Not now Mikey. Not now."

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**Can anyone guess what happened in the lab that's got Don so spooked? Do you think Mikey will be able to fix it? Do you think the 2.8g of courage that was so graciously donated to me will give me enough strength to finish this blessed thing? **

**And last but not least, do you think I got Mikey's voice right? He's always a hard one for me. His voice in my head is fine, but capturing his spirit on paper is like pinning down a cloud. **

**Would love to know what you think.**


	2. What did I do?

**A/N: Let this be a lesson to you all, don't write up stories in the split second you have to dash out the door. The missing "t" on that last sentence has been bugging me all day. My apologies to all the word nerds that almost had a heart attack over it. I also apologise for mucking up the second chapter, who knew adding it to the story would be so difficult? Urgh. Ahhhh well, it's all good now, and I've learnt for next time. So without further ado...**

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"What did I do?"

I scrambled over the back of the couch, ending up in a heap on the floor, grinning sheepishly. "Float like a butterfly, fall like a rock.", I said to no one in particular as I looked at Donny.

He must of thought it was pretty funny 'cause he stumbled back towards the lab. Relief flooded though me. That's Donny for you, playing up the act. Mocking me for falling on my can. Dunno what he was thinking before, looking at me like I couldn't fix it. I fixed it fine.

There was still that nagging feeling in the pit of stomach though, like something wasn't quite right. I trotted after Donnie and decided it must of been because I missed a snack. Donny looked pretty distracted and shaky, perhaps he was hungry as well?

"Whatcha lookin' for?" I asked as he fumbled around his lab. He still had his right wrist in a deathgrip, so how he was going to pick up whatever he was looking for was beyond me.

"Bandages. Lots and lots of bandages." he mumbled, his face a pale with shock. Well explosions to the butt will do that to you, I reasoned. But as I looked at that one teeny tiny drop of blood on his finger I didn't get it.

"Bandages? Don't you mean band _aid_ Donny? It's just a scratch."

I'll never forget the way he looked at me then. Y'know in horror films where you're standing in front of your best bud and the psycho's right behind you and they don't wanna say anything in case you panic and get slaughtered? Kinda like that.

"Not now Mikey." Don said with a quiet wave of despair. "Just help me look for the bandages."

They're right here." I said as I offered them to him. Something had to be wrong if Donny didn't know where the bandages were. We use the stupid things almost every single day, and the lab wasn't messed up that bad. Just the bit he was sitting in front of. Donny not knowing where they were was like Leo not knowing whose butt the sun shined out of, (his own). That worried feeling crawled back.

"You right bro?"

His look said anything but.

"Yeah Mikey, I'll be fine. Just help me wrap these bandages around my arm. Shoulder to fingers first." he reminded me gently, like if the act of wrapping a bit of cloth round his old arm would send me screaming for the hills. I didn't like it. "Then we wrap from fingers to shoulder. Nice and tight."

As I was wrapping his arm; singing "Here we go round Donny's arm" to myself, he collapsed! Just like that. One minute he's sitting there, as happy as a Larry can be when their arm's being strangled and the next? Poof! Hello Mr Sandman it's lights out time.

Brains can't think when the dead weight of their brother drops onto them like that, so I just grabbed him and struggled to put him into bed. I finished bandaging his arm. After all Donatello told me to.

With the bandaging finished, my brain came out from it's hidey hole. This situation looked bad. Real bad. The kinda bad that Raph usually leads me out of the room for and calls, "messy". Unless he's the one messed up. Or I'm the one messed up. Anyhoo this is the kinda horror show I don't stick around for. They're all so much better and smarter and stronger than me, especially in the stomach department. But they were all gone and I was here alone with Donny. Just Donny and me.

I have never felt so alone in my life.

But what did I do?

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**A/N: So were you right? What do you think this loveable leatherback has done? Is the voice of Mikey still ok? Spelt Donny or Donnie? I'm always interchanging, it's a pain. Let me know if this is still interesting you and thank you for your wonderful reviews, they really are giving me courage.**

**I'll take that next 2.8g shot now if you please. I think Donnie could use a 2.8g shot of something too ...**


	3. What have I done?

**A/N: Thanks for being so patient with me as I stumble to put in new chapters. The last chapter was short and sweet, and this one is too. The next one will be a bit "meatier" as Michaelangleo struggles with what to do next. Rave or rant, I'd love to hear what you think.**

**Without further ado...**

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"What have I done?" I asked urgently as I tried to rouse him. The thought of calling the gang back was out of the question, they were unreachable. It was one of those "be one with nature and the universe" kinda times. None of them had a shell cell.

Donny stirred just enough to puke all over the bed. I'm talking exorcist here; one, two, three AND the director's cut. The smell of it almost brought me to my knees.

"Donny, you have to tell me what I've done!" I yelled as I angrily ripped the sheets off the bed. I had no idea where that flash of Raph had come from. However there was no time for thinking or pussyfooting around now, and those hills were looking like a mighty fine place to scream to.

His voice was barely a whisper. "Digitalis."

"What?"

I tucked new clean, white bed sheets around him and looked down at our stubby little fingers. His were now grasped in mine, willing me to solve the puzzle. Cold and slick. Probably not a good sign. I thought my older brother must have lost his mind. His digits and my digits couldn't of done this to him. He seemed panicked at my confusion and tried again.

"Foxglove."

Ok now I knew for certain he had lost the plot. What on earth would he want with gloves for foxes? Perhaps they were the same size as Master and he wanted to get him something for winter? I couldn't see how that helped me here.

As I tried to explain to him that this was no time for fashion tips he looked me dead in the eye. With his remaining good hand he reached over and weakly slapped me up the side of the head.

"Poison!"

I jumped away as everything came back to me in a rush. The memory flickered and whirred in my brain like an old horror movie as I watched in slow motion. All the puzzle pieces fell into place with a deathly click.

Donny must of been working on something to do with this poison. As he scraped his chair back to sit down, I was at the ready with my little fun box of doom. I waited for the chair to scrape again and pressed the remote. I had no idea what he was doing in there 'cause I was in the lounge room listening for the sound of the chair. The force of the explosion must of crushed him into his experiment, cutting himself on the poisonous, broken glass.

It took every ounce of strength I had in me not to drop to my knees and howl. I was a cold blooded killer. My stupid, boneheaded prank was the reason he was like this. It would tear this family apart.

"Oh Donny, I'm so sorry." was all I could say. What a pathetic attempt at an apology.

Wiping the tears welling up in my eyes, I trembled at the huge task that laid before me. Doubt ran through my veins and almost stopped my heart. I didn't want to let Donny down. I couldn't let Donny down. I gulped as I tried to stop my knees from shaking, and my body from fainting. I had to fix this.

Donny's hand shot out and grabbed mine. He was scared. The fear and pain in his eyes as he looked at me was almost too much to bare. Shamefaced I tried to look away but he wouldn't have it. I felt so bad, but I realised it wasn't about me now. It was all about Donny.

He started to gasp for air, like a fish out of water. Showing me a weak smile; like he'd already knew my limitations and decided I wasn't up to the task, he panted, "Not ... now Mikey. Don't ... worry. I'll ... I'll sort something out ... myself."

Smart, sensible Donny. He'll fix it. He'll help me though it! I could always count on my big brothers.

However, as I looked down on his weak, trembling, frightened form it didn't seem right somehow. It dawned on me that this was it. The chips were down and good old Mikey was the only one left to bat. I had to hit this homerun or we were outta there.

My eyes snapped wide at that last thought. Outta there. I just couldn't let that happen. Not to Donny.

What had I done?

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**A/N: Well did you guess? The manure has certainly hit the windmill now. Looks like Mikey's going to have to take over the role of Donny, he's going to have to take it FROM Donny! How will they both cope? **


	4. Making it right

**A/N: This one had a little help from the awesome author BlowMyHeartUp . Take a wander through her words, you won't be disappointed. I promised you a longer chapter and I didn't deliver, for that I'm sorry. It's what I was deliberating all this time. To make up for it, I'm giving you not one, but two ... that's right TWO chapters for the price of one.**

**Sorry you don't get a free set of steak knives. Read on and let me know if you like it.**

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**Making it right**

"I'm gonna make it right." I told Donny as I searched his lab with my gaze. The stubborn idiot really was trying to get out of the bed! Luckily a kitten could of held him in place, so weak was his body from lack of air. I'm dunno why he wanted to get off the bed, I could get the oxygen. Any fool could do that.

I grabbed the canister and raced it over. Donny grappled with the mask and I twisted the valve open. The sickly sweet surgical smell filled the room as my brother greedily gulped the O2 with shallow, panicked breaths. That wasn't going to help at all.

"Slow down Donny. Nice deep breaths." I coaxed, helping him to sit. The tears almost blurred my vision as I remembered how many times that had been said to me. _Slow down. Examine all the details. Think before you act. _Ha, if I'd learned to listen we might not be in this humongous mess.

His breaths became longer, with a soul twisting jag at the end. Each time it happened my heart would stop and I'd will Donny to take just one more breath.

_Don't think about each breath being his last_, I thought through each short, sharp silence. Just think about making him well.

Some books were piled up on the desk, covered in broken glass. I wondered if that's what he was working on.

I fetched a broom and swept the glass off the open pages. I cleaned up around the floor and laid down some rotten planks, covering what was left of the mess. Donnie looked at me curiously.

"Can't be too careful now can we bro?" I said as pride beamed from Donny's eyes. "It'd be no good if I got sick too, now would it?"

He nodded in agreement; bending over, his head almost between his knees, face locked in a tight grimace. I was worried he was going to pass out again, so I went to him. Donny forced me back to the books by the frantic waving of his hands. I sighed. I never did like books with no pictures in them.

I read the title._ A Short-term, Randomized, Double-Blind, Parallel-group Study to Evaluate the Efficacy and Safety of Dronedarone versus Amiodarone in Patients with Persistent Atrial Fibrillation: The DIONYSOS Study_

What. The. Shell! As panic overtook me, I used the end of the broom to flick a few pages further along.

_ACCF/AHA Focused Update on Perioperative Beta Blockade Incorporated Into the ACC/AHA Guidelines on Perioperative Cardiovascular Evaluation and Care for Noncardiac Surgery._

Perioperative? Cardio? SURGERY! _Holy crap on a cracker, what the shell have I done? _ My mind whirled as all the pieces of me seemed to fly apart. There was no WAY I was rattling 'round Donny's guts like he was a buick!

I raced over to my brother's side and looked at him, trying to find the words to let him know I wasn't up for this. That someone else had to take control 'cause I was so out of my depth. I knew there was no one else, but I just didn't know what more I could do. I just wasn't good enough . I couldn't understand all this mumbo jumbo, and that harsh little fact was going to kill my brother, my family and my world.

Before the words even passed my lips he knew. My wise old brother gave me a long look of compassion and understanding. Like he'd wrestled with that exact same problem the whole of his life. I looked away ashamed. It was true.

He also knew that I had to push past all those doubts and fears and get on with the job at hand. No matter what the cost, I had to try. He said it in the only way his poisoned brain knew how.

"Not ... now ... Mikey."

And he was right. Now was not the time for fear. I had to make this right.

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**A/N: Thanks everyone for sticking with me for so long, I really appreciate it.. I know the journey has been long, but I'm seeing some dark clouds up ahead. Might be a good time to put on your seatbelts 'cause I think the rides gonna get a little bumpy from here ...**

**As always read and review, newbie writers like myself need to know. Is the pace ok or have I strung you along too much already? Are you getting bored with the plot/storyline, or are you eager for more?**


	5. ARGH!

**ARGH!**

"ARGH!"

With no time to turn back to the books, Donny whipped back in agony, I thought he was going to break his shell in half as he arched in pain. Giving him something to relieve it might make matters worse, so I was helpless to stop it.

"I ... I ... I just gotta see what I can do for ya Donny ok?" I stammerd weakly and furiously skimmed the pages. Most of it was a blur; I was only picking up pieces here and there, but I hoped like shell the pieces fitted together enough to make a picture of Donny getting well, and not our lives falling apart.

I needed an cardiac monitor, to make sure his heart wasn't doing anything hinky.

Eyeing the machine suspiciously, I pulled it over to where Donny writhed. Wires and sticky things and beeping ... Oh my! I flicked it on and it lit up like a Christmas tree. Sticking the pads to my fingers I looked at Donny's plastron and sighed. Where the heck were these things supposed to go? It didn't matter anyway, as I discovered you're not supposed to take the backing paper off them until you're ready to stick them on. They just ended up a in useless, sticky little lumps that I tried to shake them off. Unstuck by the force of the flick, they flew like small comets with wire tails and landed on the opposite wall with a thunk. _One point to the incompetence of Mikey_, I groaned. Then I slapped my head and realised I can't read a stupid cardiac monitor anyways. I saluted to the imaginary scoreboard. _ Second point goes to Mikey the buffoon too._

Decided to go with the pulse/oxygen meter instead, slipping the little white clip onto Donny's finger. At least that beep was familar. Just like in the movies. Very reassuring.

Or not.

It beeped the salsa. Or the tango. Or the chicken dance for all I knew or cared. It was the not the rythm of a normal turtle heart beat. I felt Donny slipping into that "messy" place again.

"Do ... som ..."

That jag had turned into a lag.

That lag had turned into a scream.

I realised that scream wasn't just coming from the solid beep of the flatlined pulse/oxygen machine.

That scream was also coming from me.

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**A/N: WOW. I didn't think this chapter warranted an author's note up the top, so I've kept it all down the bottom. Kudos again to BlowMyHeartUp, she's the one that's helped me split the chapters. Don't blame her if you don't like it, the final choice was mine.**

**So what do you think? Can Dr Michaelangelo save the day and his dearest brother? **

**Let me know what you think in the reviews or I may just stop it here and never let Donny's heart beat again!**

***Cue diabolic music and thunderstorms* Mwaaahahahahahahahahaha**


	6. It hurts

**A/N: Thanks for sticking around for this latest instalment. The first part of this story is a shout out to all of you. I was thinking of you all when I wrote it. People all around the world, holding their collective breaths to see if Donny would live or die. That's a mighty humbling thing for a new hack like me. To know you like the story that much.**

**So I wrote the first bit as a bit of a thank you to you all. For making me welcomed, and giving me courage.**

**Enjoy.**

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**It hurts.**

Time stood still.

I didn't think it did, but it really does. All that stuff about the world; thousands of thoughts, minds and feelings paused in that split second of communal harmony, _is_ true. The world really does hold it's collective breath and waits.

Watches.

Not me though. Or at least not the primordial beast inside of me that wasn't too frozen in fear.

His scream errupted from me. I was so scared, I hid in the corner of my mind and watched him bellow "Don't you _DARE_ do this to me Donny!" as he lept into the air and punctuated the sentence with an almighty thud to my brother's still chest.

The effect was immediate. Life flooded back into Donny. It wasn't his final encore. He still had more songs to sing.

_Take that death, _ the beast snorted as he went back into the mysteries of my mind. His job here was done.

Unfortunately that left me on my own again.

At least he gave me a split second to confirm Donny was alive before the tears and madness began.

Unable to stop myself, I slid down onto the floor, shell shocked. Tears gushed from my eyes and I wrapped my arms around my knees to keep my heart (and mind if truth be told), from ripping apart.

I wanted to go home.

I didn't want to live in this scary nightmare of a place anymore. I wanted popcorn and pizza and funny movies and smart wisecracks and laughter.

I wanted Raph's headlocks and shoulder punches and Leo's long boring lectures and reassuring hugs, and Donny's sighs and quiet understandings.

Looking at the lab door, my heart ached so very badly for Raph to saunder in, take me by the hand and lead me away from this house of horrors, for Leo to rest his big comforting hand on my shoulder, look at me, and tell me everything would be alright. Because then it would.

Sobs wracked my chest so badly it hurt. They threatened to drown me as I tried to gasp for air. Threatened my sanity. I wanted my brothers. I wanted them so bad.

I cried like I did when I was six and scared 'cause of the monsters under the bed. 'cause right now the monsters are real.

I cried like I did when I was four and was lost in the sewers and I didn't know where I was and knew I wasn't smart enough to find my way home. 'cause right now I don't feel smart enough to know what the shell I'm doing.

I cried like I did when I was two because my brothers had gone into another room and I didn't know where they were, I couldn't see them or feel them near. 'cause right now I can't see them and they feel so very far away. It just hurts so bad.

I cried.

Where was my happy ending? I wanted my happy ending so much. After all we're the good guys right? We fight for what's right and good in the world and we're supposed to get our just rewards, right? We're supposed to swoop down, battle the villians, rescue the girl, save the day, and at the end of it all everyone is safe. Everyone gets what they wanted and they all live happily ever after. Right?

Right?

Wiping my beak on my arm I realised I'd have to make my own happily ever after. We weren't out the woods yet, and I was frightened of what lurked in the shadows there.

As I sat in my little pool of misery, my thoughts whirred. I wondered if this is how Leo felt, in the long cold hours before dawn? Knowing the fate of our family lives or dies on the next decision he makes. I'd have to ask him about it sometime.

So I made the next decision. Sat for a second and pieced the puzzle I had put together before. Got up gingerly, not quite ready to trust that the weight of my sorrow wouldnt hurl me to the floor again. It didn't.

It was poision. So there'd be an antidote. Donny was too smart to be fooling around the lab without it nearby.

I looked at the destroyed foxglove flowers and hoped like hades he wasn't making the antidote when my sick prank went off. If I read correctly, those flowers are found more commonly in Europe, and I don't think the mail has a "dead man's express" to get me more.

Checking the books again I sighed in relief. Whilst you could make an antidote from the plant, it wasn't neccessary. Just an IV. An IV of atrophine for hemodynamically unstable bradyarrhythmias or lidocaine if he has ventricular tachycardia.

Whatever that means.

Gotta get past the IV fiasco first.

IV's are tricky things. They look real simple in the movies; hang it up, whack the needle in the arm, and ignore whatever the patient's saying while you try to score with the hot nurse beside you.

Reality's a whole 'nuther story.

Why do they give you so much tubing? It only gets knotted and and tangled around you whilst you try to find somewhere to hang the stupid thing.

And why is the needle so big, and his veins so small? I swear Donny was going to have another heart attack when he saw me coming at him with that thing. Like I was going to stick it in his ear or something.

That hurt, but I understood.

If he wasn't so desperate for air I think he would of taken over, done it himself, assumed it would be too hard for me to do. Not just in the knowledge sense, but in the heart sense too. I'm known for my softness.

I know he was peeved 'cause he had all the knowledge and couldn't do anything about it. I feel like that too, sometimes. I know what I wanna do, I just don't know how to do it.

Splinter says I just need more experience. Like now.

I knew from the way Donny was looking at me that he was sorry. Sorry for thinking I wasn't up to the task. I looked at Donatello reassuringly as I held his hand, found the vein and placed the IV.

It hurt him.

It hurt me too.

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**A/N: Awwww poor Mikey, no one ever thinks he's up to the task. I think he's doing a mighty fine job don't you agree? Don't you just want to give him a big old hug?**

**Was the chapter too jumpy this time? I worried that maybe the this chapter doesn't flow as nicely as the others and I've given you all a headache. If I have I'm sorry.**

**Rant, rave, review, all the good stuff. Creative criticism is always welcomed, and if anyone thinks they'd like to help beta for me (particularly in paragraph, sentence structure, character insight and what-not, give me a bell ... I just might take you up on it ;o)**


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